


Taking Back What's Ours

by TrekFaerie



Series: Dragon Meme: Kinkquisition [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 05:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2801558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekFaerie/pseuds/TrekFaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas ran off with some pretty sweet gear, and the Inquisitor isn't just going to sit back and let that happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Back What's Ours

**Author's Note:**

> idk
> 
> kink meme fill: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/11864.html?thread=46688088#t46688088

_I am sorry as well, old friend_.

"Wait!"

Fen'Harel wasn't sure what he had expected to happen after his encounter with Mythal, but his wildest imaginings wouldn't have ever thought up what truly happened: the Inquisitor, along with a gaggle of companions, practically falling out of Mythal's Eluvian. The power faded from his eyes as he tried his best to look how Solas had.

"You think... _You_ think..." Cadash leaned forward, hands on her knees, breathing hard. She was still in those strange silver pajamas she always wore around Skyhold, as if her urge to track him down was so sudden she hadn't gotten the chance to change into her armor. "You _think_ \--"

"Breathe, boss." Iron Bull kneeled next to her and began to pat her on the back. "Just breathe."

"What she's _trying_ to say, which I only know 'cause she kept shouting it while we were running through that creepy 'loovian place," Sera said, "is, 'You think you can just run off with some of my best gear and get away with it, you fucking pisshead?'"

"Not in... _Woo_ , just let me... sit for a spell..." Cadash slumped to the ground, hands braced against the tile. "Not in so many words, of course..."

"Am I the only one concerned about the dead old woman on the ground?" Dorian asked dryly. "Yes? All right, I'm sure that's fine. Yes, clothes are certainly the most important thing right now."

"We've been doing this for you, you selfish prick!" Sera snapped. "You'd think you'd be all about getting a new fancy staff!"

"I do apologize. I'll try to get my priorities in order." He crouched down and started to prod Flemeth's darkened body with a stick he'd found in the nearby grass. "My, Solas, you do get up to some kinky business when left alone, don't you?"

"You should all leave immediately," Fen'Harel said, though the dark growl of his voice didn't seem to cause any of his former friends concern. He sighed internally; of course it wouldn't. These were the same fools who had gleefully run off to fight the dragon they'd gotten this gear from in the first place. He wasn't even sure if they could feel fear.

"Not until you give back my stuff!" Cadash said, standing shakily.

He crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow at them. Daring. Goading.

He _really_ shouldn't have.

He felt the tug of fabric long before he heard the harsh rip of it, felt air on his smallclothes shortly before he noticed that Iron Bull suddenly had a handful of destroyed clothing. A small part of his mind, absently observing the madness, genuinely hoped that it could be repaired. The Inquisitor had gone through so much trouble to get it, after all.

It was Sera who snatched up the staff he'd placed on the ground earlier, though she looked nervous to even be holding it. "Scatter!" she shouted, and they did so, practically falling over themselves in their haste to get back through the Eluvian.

Inquisitor Cadash was the last to leave. Before she did, she turned to him. She gave him a brief, sad smile, and mouthed the words, _Goodbye, friend_. Then, she was gone.

Fen'Harel was left alone, practically naked and nearly defenseless without a weapon.

And still, he smiled.


End file.
